Elizabeth nodded, and he leaned in to peer into Daniel's face.

"Look at 'em eyes," said the sailor, his grin showing off teeth like oak pegs. "Green as the sea when she's feeling feisty. Make a sailor one day, he will."

Daniel suddenly let out a great chuckle, the small nose crinkling and bare gums showing pink. Elizabeth started, for while the babies smiled often, neither of them had yet produced real laughter. Lily looked at her brother with some puzzlement.

"You see!" said the sailor. "He knows the truth when he hears it, don' he now? There's no stoppin' a lad born to the sea."

"Did you go to sea as a boy?" asked Elizabeth, charmed by his grin and his admiration of her children.

"Ayuh, so I did." He pulled the pipe from his mouth and cocked his head over the side to spit, never taking his eyes from her. "The Cards of Port Ann was all born for the sea, every last one of us. Why, I saw China when I was no more than fourteen. Believe it or not, missus, when I were seventeen we took a merchant bound home for Bristol. Crippled in a storm north of Cuba, near broke in half. We took her neat and simple before she went down and my good captain sent me home with forty pound of fancy spice, a whole ton of sugar, fifty gallons o' rum, and near a thousand dollar-- me! Tim Card as you sees before you, not a respectable whisker on my face that day I walked into me mam's kitchen and thumped down the coin. Gave it all to her, too, every bit of it. Except the rum, of course. She was a bible-reader, was my mam. Had no use for rum." Another flash of the teeth.

"You've always sailed on privateers, then?" asked Elizabeth, a bit unnerved. She had first come to New-York on a British packet, and during that long journey she had heard many stories from the captain, a former Royal Navy officer who detested privateers as much as he feared them. But Tim Card carried on, eager to tell his story.

"Oh, ayuh. Lobster pots left me cold, you see. And I ne'er was what you'd call the military type. The merchants, now--what's in it for a lad, I ask you? Two brothers before me went out on a merchantman and wound up pressed into a Tory frigate. And that's the last we saw of Harry and Jim. Not for me, says I to my mam and off I went to find my fortune. Sailed ten year with Captain Parker on the Nancy and longer still with Captain Haraden. P'rhaps you heard tell of him, how we took the Golden Eagle in the Bay of Biscay. Not long after that I come up here to crew on the spider catchers."

"This must be very tame, after your earlier adventures."

The sharp gaze moved over the water. "Don' let the looks of her deceive you, missus. She's got her tricks, and you'd best not forget it." He rubbed his cheek with horny nails so that the stubble rasped.

"Yes," Elizabeth said. "You may not believe it to see me as I am dressed now, Mr. Card, but I am not unfamiliar with these waterways. Last summer I traveled the full length of this lake with my husband, by canoe."

That brought the old sailor up short. He narrowed one eye at her, his head cocked, sparrowlike.

"Is that so?" he said thoughtfully. His gaze took in her good gray traveling gown, the lace at her neck and wrists, the heavy shawl, and then he shrugged. "If you traveled these waters with Nathaniel Bonner you were in good hands, then."

"Do you know my husband?" Elizabeth asked, surprised and pleased and eager for any word of him.

"Ain't many in this part of the world who don't know of Hawkeye and his boy Nathaniel," grinned the old sailor. "I've laid eyes on him once or twice. He would've made a fine sailor." The bright gaze was drawn back to the lake. "Ayuh, I never felt the need to go back to the sea after I been on this water. And privateering is a younger man's game, truth be told." He peered at her. "You've heard tales of the privateers, I suppose. Little better than pirates."

"I've heard a few stories," Elizabeth admitted.

He grunted, clamping down anew on the stem of his pipe so that it bobbed up and down. "Sailin' this part of the world I heard a few tales of the Mohawk," he said thoughtfully. "Torturin' women, eatin' white babies, all that. But I expect you know different, livin' together with them the way you do. Got that girl of Nathaniel's, don' you. Likely maid, that one. Keen eyed, sharp."

Elizabeth observed him closely but she could see nothing untoward in his expression. "I suppose you mean to tell me I shouldn't believe the tales I've heard of American privateers?"

He shrugged, shifting the coil of rope on his shoulder. "Wouldn't go that far, missus. There's some vicious sorts runnin' the seas and not all of 'em fly the Jolly Roger open like. I knowed a few who would as soon toss these young'uns overboard as look at 'em--"

Elizabeth's arms tightened around the twins, who squirmed in protest.

"--b I ain't one o' them," he finished. "And I ne'er sailed with any such. Most is just merchants, missus. Interested in the profit, is all. What ain't profitable goes over the side, you see."

"I'll remember that," Elizabeth said, her voice cracking a bit as she tried to smile.

"Button Bay, we calls her," said Tim Card, his eyes moving over the shore. He touched his cap as he turned away.

If good fortune had been with them, they might have left the Washington at Fort Chambly and reached Montréal by sleigh in less than a day's time on the ice road. But all Elizabeth's prayers for a late freeze went unheard: they managed to portage around the Richelieu rapids to find a world made of mud and water. On the marshes the ice was porous and would no longer support the weight of a sleigh of any size. This left the summer route, difficult even in the driest weather but impossible in the spring thaw. Captain Mudge summarized the problem with his usual directness.